


Chocolate Cake Is A Metaphor

by BRNZ



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Is Trying (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Bad at Feelings (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a bit oblivious really, Crowley is Sex Candy, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, Quote: We're On Our Own Side (Good Omens), chocolate cake is a metaphor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 07:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20720207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BRNZ/pseuds/BRNZ
Summary: Aziraphale is having an existential crisis about love, sex, chocolate cake and Crowley while they are in a patisserie eating decadent chocolate cake.Crowley ran a finger over the ganache smeared across the plate, and absently licked the icing off it.Oh…..fuck*****************************************************Originally inspired by Infrared by Three Days Grace about how the rest of the world sees Crowley in comparison to how the angel might, but this went in a completely different direction cos Aziraphale is truly oblivious!





	Chocolate Cake Is A Metaphor

** _In Infra-red_ **  
** _ The heat and the light and the way you move_ **  
** _ Like nobody else is in the room_ **  
** _ I see you, I see you_ **

** _*******************************************************_ **

“Oh my god” said a female voice in hushed tones, nudging her friends attention away from her cellphone “Look”

Two pairs of eyes raked over the black clad demon slouching lazily through the crowd in their general direction

“That’s a long tall glass of gorgeous, and I am *so thirsty*” murmured the first girl to the second, and they both licked their lips in silent appreciation as the dark sunglasses scanned the crowd for a moment.

“Shit he’s heading this way, tits out girlfriend”

Aziraphale idly noted their crestfallen faces as Crowley stepped past the two young women with a polite “Ladies” and smiled at the angel, brandishing white squares between two fingers

“C’mon angel, lets grab our seats, movie starts soon”

*********************************************  
The café was mostly full, he had ‘found’ a seat down the back in a quiet corner. Crowley was of course, fashionably late, but the angel had come prepared with a book. The noise level in the café dropped suddenly catching his attention.  
  
Crowley leaned hipshot against the counter, wine list in one hand, discussing options with the wide eyed lad behind the counter. With a nod and a flourish he returned the menu, and sauntered in the angels direction, a lazy smirk that got wider as he noticed all heads turning to both watch him come and go.

Aziraphale noticed several of the women and a few men glassy eyed and shifting unsettled in their seats.  
  
“Hey angel, wine’s on its way, a nice Malbec from Argentina” the demon folded himself artfully across the chair in his usual insouciant way and quirked an eyebrow at the angel

“Angel?”

Aziraphale frowned a little, pursing his lips “What did you do to them Crowley?”

Confused the demon said “Do what? Where?”

The angel gestured to the other café patrons, half of which were doing their best not to stare at the two of them and the demon swivelled round, appearing to dislocate his spine in the process and grinned back at the angel

“Yeah, get that a bit” he shrugged “Didn’t do anything angel, its how humans react to the way I look”

The waiter approached with their wine and glasses, and the moment was lost in the ritual of opening and tasting the wine.  
  
It was a nice Malbec. The handsome young waiters hands trembled slightly as he poured the wine into Crowleys glass.

  
************************************************  
**_Infra-red_**  
**_ I know that you're burning up for me_**  
**_ Fire in your bloodstream_**  
**_ Moving through you at light-speed_**  
**_ I see you, I see you_**

************************************************  
Aziraphale was used to being overlooked, dismissed. His countenance was that of an older, fussy gentleman, a bit behind the times with his fashion style, courtly manners, a bit prim and prissy in this modern day and age.  
  
Consequently he didn’t pay much attention to general humanity either, so while he was vaguely aware that Crowley had some visual impact on the great unwashed, like any great work of art, the implications of what it might mean surprised him.  
  
He started to pay more attention.

Heads regularly turned to focus and track on the demon as he moved through any group of people. Women and men twitched under his gaze, clothing adjusted, fetching blushes, lips licked, pupils dilated.  
  
And some of the things that they said!! Aziraphale had stopped asking Crowley what they meant, instead battled valiantly with Google on his phone. His first accidental visit to Pornhub had taught him an important lesson, also explained why the demon had stopped answering some of his questions.  
  
The angel loved Crowley, all aspects of him, he was his best friend and dearest companion. But the fact that so many people apparently found him highly sexually desirable was a concept the angel …didn’t know what to do with.  
  
Neither of them had abstained over the years, the odd dalliance with humans had helped ease the passage of time for both of them. Bought unaccounted grief for both of them as well.  
  
But Aziraphale had never really thought about Crowley as a sexual being in his own right. Temptations to lust and seduction were obviously a demons job description, but the angel had always had an odd mental division between Crowley his friend, and Crowley the demonic entity.  
  
Aziraphale didn’t allow himself the luxury of considering it a possibility for himself. Heaven didn’t allow fraternizing. The Nephilim had taught them that lesson.

He knew the demon was out there tempting and seducing, but he saw it at a distance, removed from the friend he knew. The cognitive dissonance was doing his head in.

It must be the only reason why he had suggested visiting a cocktail lounge that had opened up near the bookshop. Soho was full of praise for the skill of the bartender, who would apparently make you up the perfect drink if you told him what you were in the mood for.  
  
It was early in the evening, so the angel nursed his Cosmopolitan, perched on the back corner of the bar, two gorgeous young lads laughing and joking with the bartender nearby.

His cellphone buzzed with a text from Crowley “Just parked the Bentley, where are you?”

Carefully he replied “Down the back of the bar”. He nearly dropped his drink when someone blasphemed with breathless reverence a few minutes later.

“Holy Mother of God, let me go down on my knees in worship” said the dark haired one

The blonde lad turned his head and choked out “Jesus Christ I would *live* on my hands and knees for that”

That being Crowley, wending his way through the patrons, catching the eye of the bartender, nodding down the end of the bar “Talisker two fingers no ice”

A crystal tumbler well loaded with amber liquid slid in front of the demon as he slithered up the angel, oblivious to the startled looks of the two awestruck twinks as he slouched by them.  
  
His black tipped hand scooped up the tumbler to clink with the angels glass “Cheers Angel, bit racy for you this place?”

Aziraphale shrugged a little stiffly “Thought you would like it my dear. You are always telling me I should try new things”

“Hmmm, hold that thought, gotta take this outside” clutching his phone to his ear, he strode out into the night.  
  
Finding his Cosmo gone, Aziraphale started on the discarded whisky, idly drawing patterns in the condensation ring on the glass bar top, not quite listening to the conversation the two boys were having

“WTF” said the dark one, turning a questioning look to his friend and tilting a head in the angels direction

They both stared at the angel like he was a puzzle they couldn’t unravel  
  
“Must have pots of money”

“Dressed like that?”

“Course! Got rich eccentric sugar daddy written all over him”

They both sighed into their drinks

“Maybe he doesn’t have a gag reflex?”

As it happened, the angel didn’t, but wasn’t quite sure how that was relevant and then oh, oh he realised *exactly* what they were meaning.  
  
His hand trembled as he swigged back the rest of the whisky, and signalled the bartender for another two of the same.

“Well he can swallow the hard stuff alright” said the dark one in unwilling appreciation

The angel was grateful he didn’t have a mouthful to choke on right then. They clearly thought he and Crowley were….lovers….

Two tumblers loaded with whisky slid onto the slick glass counter, breaking his train of thought, and he absentmindedly smiled his thanks to the bartender, tracking the demons return through the crowd again, phone call attended to.  
  
“Shall I leave the bottle?” queried a dark Spanish accented voice belonging to a gorgeous man, dark wavy hair, expressive latin eyes, clad in a tight white tshirt. The famous bartender by all accounts.   
  
“The bottle?” queried the angel.  
  
The dark eyes lingered on his for a moment “You look like your world just ended. For that, nothing but whisky will do, in my experience”

Aziraphale took a contemplative sip of his smoky whisky, Crowley had stopped to chat to the eager young lads, fashion advice by the sounds of things, and he appeared to be in a mood to indulge them.  
  
He glanced back at the waiting bartender and smiled, a complicated moue of a range of different expressions all at once  
  
“Actually I think my world just started, and this will be fine” and he hefted his glass “Gracias por su amabilidad” (Thankyou for your kindess)

“De nada” (You are welcome)

_The bartender was surprised to find a couple of hundred pound notes tucked in the back pocket of his jeans later that evening_

Crowley extracted himself from his adoring audience “My drink and company are waiting lads” He sank onto the barstool with a sigh, snagging the second tumbler

“Whisky angel? You only hit the hard stuff when you have serious thinking to do, thought we were here to have fun?”

The music suddenly got a lot louder, the lights dimmed, and fancy neons lit up behind the bar and they both winced and the angel muttered “Oh dear” into his whisky

“C’mon angel, bottoms up, lets head back to the bookstore” and the demon drained his glass in two long swallows.  
  
“Right behind you my dear, lead the way”

He couldn’t quite put a finger on what made him stop next to the darkhaired lad who lusted after his demon and say clearly in his ear “Actually I don’t have a gag reflex” giving what he freely admitted was a very bitchy smile before disappearing into the crowd.  
  
“Alright angel?”queried his demon when they emerged into the cool night air, blessedly quiet compared to the bar.

“Tickety-boo” replied the angel absently, his mind reeling under the implications that were beginning to settle into the depths of his brain.  


*******************************************

**_Don't stress, don't stress_**  
**_ No one knows what goes on in our heads, our heads_**  
**_ We are invisible to the rest, the rest_**  
**_ They don't know nothing 'bout what we have, we have_**  


** _'Cause everyone's living in black and white  
But we see each other in a different light_ **

  
*******************************************

First he was struggling with the concept of seeing his Crowley as a sexual creature, then he was floored by the concept that other people saw them as a ‘couple’ as it was termed these days. With the implication that they were lovers.  
  
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to, more that he had never considered the concept as an actual reality before.  
  
Plus he was painfully aware that he was only one half of the relationship. What might Crowleys thoughts on the subject be? Asking him was obviously out of the question!! Too forward by far, much too fast, as the Ton used to say.

So he watched and wondered and drank an astonishing amount of whisky.

Crowley was chameleon like in his moods, he could be wired tightly strung, vibrating nerves and anxiety one day, cheerful insouciance the next. He didn’t casually chat the way the angel was wont to, often fidgeting with his phone and sighing in an loud annoyed manner after a few minutes, but would make pointed sotto voce comments only the angel could hear, making him laugh while they were dining out.

Aziraphale began to realise just how much time they spent in each others presence, usually meeting for lunch as the demon was a late riser, often dinner as well, ending up in the bookstore, drinking and talking til all hours.  
  
Now they were free agents, Crowley often spent afternoons holed up in the backroom watching ridiculous TV, sleeping bonelessly on the sofa, or idly pestering the angel when he was bored.  
  
They were nearly living in each others pockets, and Crowley only left to go back to his barren flat to sleep.

Aziraphale was standing in his favourite coffeeshop waiting for their order, Crowley had wandered outside to take a call, they had a new girl on the till who leaned on the counter chatting to the barista who was filling their order.

“Does he ever smile?”

Occupied with tamping coffee down, Tiana, the barista frowned “Does who ever smile?”

New girl tilted her head at the window where Crowley was pacing in a large circle talking animatedly “Dark Overlord out there. He’s been in a few times and he always looks pissed off” she shrugged “Tips well though”

Tiana served up a long black and a caramel iced coffee with whipped cream and marshmallows “Your order Mr Fell”and she smiled at the angel

“Thankyou my dear” he collected their drinks and headed for the door

Crowley burst through it “Bloody stockbrokers, someone give me a coffee!”

Aziraphale handed the agitated demon his long black, who grasped it with both hands, ripping the plastic lid off, inhaling the fragrance before swigging down most of the steaming hot liquid. He shuddered as it hit his system and exhaled a long “Ahhhhh that’s better, thanks angel” and he smiled fondly at the blond angel clutching his coffee confection. 

“Only you would have coffee as a dessert, for breakfast. C’mon angel” swigging the last of the hot coffee, he lobbed the empty cup over one shoulder (it did end up in the bin) and ushered the slightly flustered angel out into the street.  
  
Tiana and the new girl stared at each other, and the new girl bit her lip and shrugged “Oh well”

_Aziraphale had been the recipient of so many smiles from the demon, he had never noticed they were not bestowed elsewhere. In fact the demon’s default setting seemed to be either a frown or a very evil smirk, neither of which boded well for whoever they were aimed at._

_***********************************************_

_Angels could sense Love of course, the Capital L kind, the generic universal well being feeling that most humans contained in varying amounts. Then there were the more specific kinds of love, lust, desire, want, need, even in some instances a form of addiction._  
  
It had not really occurred to Aziraphale that these could be broken out into specific discrete types of love, he had tended to lump them into two generic categories, angelic love and demonic love. Or ‘good’ and ‘bad’ for the most simplistic definition.   
  
He was beginning to wonder who had defined for him what good and bad love looked like. In fact, he was struggling to understand why any kind of love could be considered bad, oh he understood the darker depths, passion and lust can easily be entwined with hate, become cruel and hurtful.

_But Heaven had a very limited approach to love, with little tolerance to embrace any variations beyond that. _

The rather scrumptious slice of triple layer chocolate cake, glistening with shiny chocolate ganache, piped with white chocolate swirls sat decoratively on the plate in front of him and tempted him with its simple existence. Aziraphale sat, chin on hands, frowning at the delectable treat in front of him. He wanted it. He loved cake. He particularly loved chocolate cake.

Yet Heaven would consider this a grievous sin. Several of them no doubt, Lust, Gluttony and Greed for sure. But it was just one (admittedly quite generous) slice. He wasn’t going to eat the whole cake. Nor did he intend to have cake with every meal. What harm could it do to indulge himself just this once? Or occasionally?

Why wasn’t he allowed to want nice things? Things he enjoyed? Things that other people got to enjoy without judgement?  
  
Where exactly did free will fit into the equation for an angel and a demon who had turned their backs on Heaven and Hell?

He was thinking so hard he didn’t notice when Crowley slid sideways into the chair next to him with a casual “Alright angel?”. It wasn’t til the plate of cake began to slide sideways that he reacted, one hand flashing down to capture a wiry black clad wrist in a firm grip  
  
“Hey! Alright alright don’t steal the cake, but you haven’t even touched it” grouched the demon

Aziraphale let go slowly and sighed “Sorry my dear, I was having a bit of an existential crisis” and he slid the cake to the demon “My treat”

Baffled Crowley stared at the angel over his sunglasses, he loved chocolate cake from this patisserie even though it was halfway across London and parking was a nightmare. Normally he ate every last crumb, right down to the pattern embossed on the plate.  
  
However the demon was particularly fond of dark chocolate, so picked up the cake fork and delicately cut through the point, forking up the first rich sponge layer, hesitating before popping it in his mouth.  
  
Aziraphale’s existential crisis about love, sex, chocolate cake and Crowley began to get all kinds of new ideas at that point. Ideas that involved smearing chocolate ganache on various parts of demonic skin and ….well….there were many possibilities beyond that…..

Crowley ran a finger over the ganache smeared across the plate, and absently licked the icing off it.

_Oh…..fuck_

“So, existential crisis about chocolate cake?” queried the demon, messily slicing the three tier cake with the ridiculous tiny cake fork into forkable sized chunks.

Aziraphale wrapped his hands around his teacup, which abruptly became a tall mug, full of hot cocoa with a significant dollop of Baileys in it. He needed the comfort, plus something to keep his hands occupied.

“How many Sins does that slice of cake embody?” he asked the demon, waiting while he swallowed down the last forkful of cake.

Licking the fork clean, Crowley closed his eyes “Mmmm not nearly enough angel, its bloody good cake this”

“Humour me, my dear”

With a put upon sigh the demon replied “Oh, Greed, Gluttony and absolutely Lust, its sinful how good that ganache is”. He swiped one of the white chocolate rosettes off the top, and savoured it “Mmmm”

“Do you enjoy it more because its just a little bit….bad?”

Crowley raised an eyebrow at him “Of course angel, everyone enjoys being tempted by the forbidden. That’s kinda the point. Temptation” he shrugged “But its just cake, no harm in indulging now and then, is there?”

Aziraphales handle tightened white knuckled around his mug “Heaven would disagree. They would be very judgemental about such human pleasures.”

Crowley snarled “Heaven is full of judgemental arseholes, and that twat Gabriel is the worst. Hypocritical too, all the fancy suits.” He paused “Not really big on enjoying themselves in Heaven much, all that be good and follow the rules shit.”

The demon continued “Doesn’t matter anyway, Our Side, remember?” he smiled at the angel.

Aziraphale took a meditative sip of cocoa, and upped the Baileys content “I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, and its harder than I expected to break the conditioning Heaven instilled. To change the way I think about things” he wriggled uncomfortably in his seat.

Crowley is still wrestling with the remaining cake slice “You’ve been eating cake for millenia angel, why is it a problem now?”

“Cake isn’t the problem. Well it is, but it isn’t. Oh bother” His cocoa was now at least half Baileys and he took a fortifying mouthful and then another. “Cake is a metaphor” he said quietly.

There was a long thoughtful silence from the other side of the table “For all the things you want but were too afraid to ask for? To have?” there was a seriousness to the question that made the angel tremble. He could feel the weight of the demons gaze on him, as he asked with even more serious intent “What kind of things, Aziraphale?”

He nervously flicked a glance at the demon, who looked like he was lounging casually in his uncomfortable café chair, but Aziraphale could see how his fists were clenched, jaw tight, one knee bobbing with a nervous tic.

Eyes on his cocoa the angel said quietly but firmly “You” he felt as if the world suddenly inhaled, and was holding its breath.

“….Me…?” the world trembled as the demon breathed “Be careful what you wish for, angel”

The Baileys had finally hit his system and he straightened, looking the demon straight on “I don’t need to be careful any more, I’m so tired of being careful, of being afraid, of not letting myself feel….anything I want to!”

He continued “I’ve done you such injustice my dear, we have been friends for so long, and I didn’t allow myself to see you truly because I was blinded by the lies Heaven fed me”

Risking everything he unclenched a hand from his mug and stretched it out, palm up in invitation “I can’t expect you to forgive me Crowley, but I have to tell you that I see you, I love you and I want you.”

Everything balanced on a knife edge as time slowed to a mere trickle of sand through the hourglass, as the demon slowly pushed his chair back, stood and took a step forward, bringing one hand up to cup Aziraphales face, running a thumb lightly across his lips.

With a slight pressure he urged the angel on his feet, sliding one hand down into the angels, interlocking their fingers, snapping the fingers of the other, and time stuttered back to real time again.  
  
“C’mon angel, lets go indulge in some very human pleasures”

“One moment my darling” the angel clicked his own fingers and a large cardboard box appeared in his free hand “Cake. For Later.”

“Planning on working up an appetite are we?”

“Oh I already have one…… but yes, most likely”

“Angel!”

_None of the patisserie staff or customers noticed as they suddenly blinked out of existence, Crowley knew the Bentley would follow him home eventually, and right now he had other priorities, involving his angel, the nearest flat surface, and hopefully chocolate cake._

************************************************  
**_Infra-red_**  
**_ I know that you're burning up for me_**  
**_ Fire in your bloodstream_**  
**_ Moving through you at light-speed_**  
**_ I see you, I see you_**

************************************************

**Author's Note:**

> Song Lyrics are Infrared by Three Days Grace


End file.
